On the stage, decked in small ribbons and garish clothing, stood two men, and they both strummed their guitars with passion and grace. One of them was short and fat, the other tall and thin. A generic pair, to be sure, but one that had played for a very long time, in a lot of places.
The day’s patrons did not seem to like the show, however, as they paid little mind to them, walking along, talking amongst themselves—even as a true master, two in fact, went to work.
Well, most did not like it. Though it would never see publication or media attention, the Royal Child was in enraptured attendance. He was toward the back, pretending to be interested in the fruits his handler would offer to him, but only eating them out of habit. Continue reading
“That’s the problem, you see,” someone said, and Joseph rose with a start. He glanced around, and it was nothing behind his eyes.
And then, there was.
His lips smacked; eyes appeared glassy and out of focus. He scratched his head and pushed the blanket off himself. In the back of his mind, moving faster than any computer could calculate, images slotted in and linked and sparked with ignited connection.
“I’m… yeah…Joseph” he mumbled and went to the bathroom. Continue reading
Westin did not recognize where he was. The walls of silver, and the floor of deep magenta, and the uniform screens of solid yellow dotting the walls, all did not match any familiar location.
And, adding to the issue, sitting up proved to be quarrelsome. His feet would not function, and it was only with some serious effort across his stomach, and a flailing, pushing motion of his hands, that he did rise and sit. Continue reading
Cents went in the machine. Out popped a jar of nutrient-rich slime, and the next customer came up to claim his meals for the next week. The slime tasted…fine, sat in the stomach fine, and would keep you alive.
It was also the only thing to eat—the only thing anyone ate. And thus, ash on John’s mouth. John hated the stuff with a burning passion beyond what a person his age should be capable of feeling. His mother had spoon fed it to him in the usual airplane style as a toddler, and even then, it felt like a kamikaze attack on his soul. Continue reading
I haven’t felt squeamish in years. So, you must understand my confusion when I came upon the newest scene of death and dismemberment and something lurched in my stomach. A few thoughts went through my head as I clutched with one hand on my gut. I assumed the sponge steak I had made had been bad or something of that ilk. That I had failed to drink enough sim-water.
Only after another second I realized the truth: I was grossed out, disgusted. My partner did not look at me as she passed by my frozen figure into the living room, and so I did not have to explain my situation as she kneeled next to what used to be a person. Continue reading
(Due to an error on my part, I don’t have a discussion article for Wednesday. Instead, here is the finale to the three part story of a man and his computer. If you haven’t read them yet here’s part 1 and part 2.)
NEW AGE VIRUS
Segmented boxes flashed up on screen and he perused them, watching counters tick up and down in wide amounts until one was within acceptable range for him to join the conversation.
Well, “conversation” may have been a stretch of a word choice, as down in this level, the communication was numbers and code words and strange symbols zooming across the screen like news tickers on a major network. A series of waving lines showed he could speak now if he wanted to, and Bernard did not feel like keeping up the typing speed required for full immersion.
“Auditory. Virus. Attack.” Continue reading
(For those who have not read it, here’s part 1)
The response took five minutes. The incoming message symbol fluctuating several times in the span of only seconds. This irked Bernard, but he was willing to observe patience if this was indeed something as interesting as he hoped.
Yeah. It is.
Under one second it took Bernard to type a response.
When and where did you get these pictures?
From a forum. Week old. Continue reading
In present day, technology is already changing our lives. But it can go a lot further. A story not so far-fetched called:
New Age Virus
Bernard Burn, resident of 1010 Parry Street, sat and glared at the string of symbols on his computer monitor. Without looking away, he pulled at the skin beneath his eyes, trying to make them less dry, and less exhausted.
The room: dark, but he did not turn on the light. If he did, the fan would turn on, and Bernard was already too cold in his house. He was never without his blue, too big for him jacket. He shivered and continued looking at the rows and rows of numerical and alphabetical gibberish. Continue reading
Alexander had the barrel pressed to the man’s head. Only he was not a man—not in the strictest sense. That’s where things get a tad problematic.
“Go on, do it. Come on now. You are the same as all of them. Pull the fucking trigger, I fucking dare you!”
“Shut it, will you?” Alexander said and smacked the man with the side of his laser gun. Darius fell backward, his skin broken, and the silver stuff underneath visible. Continue reading
I have no idea if the weight of two people on the hood of a car is good for it. But I don’t care. It holds us up in more than one way.
I stare out at them, the stars, and I think a lot of things. I’m told that’s a pretentious thing to say. I’m told we live in a world full of clichés and platitudes. And yet, like so many before me, I like looking at them, and wondering.
“You’re thinking again,” she says, and I like to hear that voice of hers.
I like to look at her too, even if it’s only this time for a brief sidelong glance. Continue reading
In honor of the holiday, a story meant for those of us without a “standard” Valentine’s day to enjoy.
Chocolates On Valentine’s Day
She broke my heart earlier today, with a soft push to get past me, and a look of severe discomfort. This woman, the one I looked at for so long, the first person to ever let me have the strength to be this brave, shattered me.
The way only a person I care for can. Continue reading
This is it.
This challenge has taken us through the depths of fiction, and now we stand ready to bring down the death-stroke.
To sever the head of the challenge, and bring glory to Coolerbs.com! Continue reading
I don’t really understand how this movie franchise manages to get away with this much good fortune. Only in the most intense marketing fever dream, does this plan just continue to make money. But lo and behold, the movies are good, and well-loved. Not a single misstep. The entire world is watching this high wire act, and they have not fallen yet.
This is apparently my way of telling you, that I liked this movie.
Which is an accurate summation, because this film was fantastic! Continue reading
The forest was vast.
A single rabbit ran by, its mechanical eye glowing red. I watch it disappear into the brush before I continued on. Wondering, briefly, where it was headed.
The path was cobblestone, and the only noise that could be heard was my feet hitting it. By this time in my quest my shoes had become ragged, the soles worn out, and the tongue hanging out like it’s namesake.
Then, finally I came to the entrance. A simple post in the ground. I swiped the card and waited a few moments. Continue reading
Alright, so it turns out I can write things that are not reviews.
Well, fancy that.
Yeah so, I recently wrote a short story. It’s called “Garbage Man”.
It was an idea I had a few months back, but I guess it took till now for all of it to be sorted out in my head.
So I wrote it. Not knowing if it was any good, or even worth a damn. Continue reading